


Imagination

by snowpuppies



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-06
Updated: 2009-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:12:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowpuppies/pseuds/snowpuppies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione's parents are concerned about her. Pre-series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imagination

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [Kitty Poker](http://kitty-poker1.livejournal.com/).

_"She's doing it again."_

_"I thought she'd outgrown it."_

_"I did, too. I know she's a creative child, but…I just…worry about her."_

_"So do I."_

_"What should we do?"_

_"I don't know, Love. I just don't know."_

 

***

 

Hermione turned another page in Indigenous Birds of Eastern Europe, her eyes flickering between the text and the full-color photos.

She sighed, her bare feet slapping together sporadically in the air above; for once, an otherwise fascinating subject wasn't holding her attention.

Placing a marker from the local library—Learn More, Read a Book—between the pages, she put the book aside and rolled over, glancing across the bedroom towards the chair next to the window.

"Do you think I shouldn't have done it?"

Propping herself up on her elbows, she rested her chin between her palms.

"I mean, cheating's against the rules. Mrs. Blackwell said so, very clearly, at the beginning of the year. I wrote down all the rules in the front of my notebook—so I wouldn't forget, of course—and, well, she really should have known, shouldn't she?"

Frustrated, she twisted her body around until she was sitting, legs folded into a pretzel, arms crossed over her chest.

"It's not my fault she didn't pay attention, that she'd rather gossip about boys and clothes than listen to the teacher. And so what if I told? It's against the rules. I was _supposed_ to tell." Bouncing from the bed, she began to pace, her head twisting to keep the chair in sight with each pass.

"And cheating on a history quiz? Of all things! History's so…so…_easy_! It's just facts. You just have to memorize. I—I can't believe she needed to cheat!" Flopping to the floor, she turned to the chair, again.

"But the things she said…" She sniffed, blinking, as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "I did what I was supposed to do—why do they all hate me?"

 

***

 

_"Doctor, we're concerned about our daughter, Hermione." _

_"Ah, yes. I remember her—bright young girl, asked a million and one questions at her last check-up. Unless I miss my guess, I'll have to be on my toes—that one will have my job, soon!"_

_"Yes, that's our Hermione, alright." _

_"Lovely child. What seems to be the problem, then?"_

_"Well…physically, she's fine, it's just…"_

_"You see, Doctor, she has…an imaginary friend."_

 

***

 

Hermione hugged her knees to her chest, huddled snugly into the space between the bed and the wall.

"I didn't mean to." Biting her lip, she looked up at the edge of the bed.

"It's just…she said something nasty about my teeth…sh—she…called me a—a _beaver_!" Hermione cried, burying her face in her hands, her abundant hair falling to cover her from view. She continued, her voice a bit muffled, now. "And then I—I got so upset and so angry and I just thought it—I didn't even say it out loud—but then…all her hair fell out, right onto the floor."

Glancing up, she dropped her hands to the floor and continued: "And then all the other girls started to laugh, and then she called me a freak and ran to the loo."

She stared at the floral wallpaper, almost as if in a trance; if she looked long enough, the leaves and vines seemed to move...

She blinked.

"I think she was crying."

She looked up again.

"Do you think I'm a freak?"

 

***

 

_"Many children have imaginary friends. How old is she?"_

_"Nine. She'll be ten in three months."_

_"I see. Tell me, does she have any other friends, real ones?"_

_"Well, Hermione's such a smart girl, and you know how children are…she's just never meshed well with other girls her age."_

_"Ten is a bit old for an imaginary friend, to be honest, but I wouldn't be overly concerned. Give her another year or two—if she's still speaking with this 'friend', I'll be glad to see her."_

_"Thank you so much, Doctor."_

_"I'm glad I could help."_

 

***

 

The setting sun filled the back yard with golden light.

Hermione sat, watching the dust motes swirling in the last light of the day.

"It's tomorrow, you know." She glanced across the porch to a green and white lawn chair, twisting her hands in worry.

"I'm afraid to go to Hogwarts, Lily. What if I can't find my classes? Or what if I don't know enough?" She paused, brow furrowed, lip clamped between her teeth. "What if I'm rubbish at it?"

"You'll do fine." Lily smiled. "You'll love it, I'm sure."

"But what if no one likes me?"

"Nonsense. Why wouldn't they like you? Why, I bet you'll make a friend on the train, before you even get to Hogwarts."

"You think so?" Hermione glanced up at the other girl, who was fading away with the evening sun.

"I promise."

Hermione watched as Lily slowly disappeared into the darkness. Sighing, she stood up, entering the back door and climbing up the stairs to her room; she had to pack, after all.

And then maybe she'd read Hogwarts, A History one more time…

 

…just in case.

 

***

 

_Mrs. Granger looked out the window where her daughter was sitting, speaking to what seemed to be an empty lawn chair._

_"Still talking to Lily, then?" Her husband asked, coming closer to peer out the window with her._

_She glanced down at the fine vellum envelope she held, the green ink boldly proclaiming its source: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

_Her brow furrowed in thought—"You don't suppose…"—she looked up at the empty lawn chair, then back at the envelope once again._

_Mr. Granger followed her gestures, his gaze flickering between the empty chair and the envelope._

_Their eyes met._

_"Well, that's a relief," Mr. Granger said, smiling out the window at his daughter and her 'friend' before leaving the room._

_Mrs. Granger sighed; of course her daughter wasn't crazy, she was special._

_She was a **witch**._

 

 

 

_FIN_.

 

Originally archived [here](http://snowpuppies.livejournal.com/190011.html).


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